Friday, March 23, 2007

in front of you she stands, undoing her necklace looking downinto your facethere’s something innocent and touching in her gesturethe purposeful sensualitythe firm belief that you want herand you doon her knees she crumples to you on the bed, and she's in your armsyour hands grasp her fragile winged back, open fingers spreadagainst your biceps the sides of her breastsher breath all liquor and smokeand the fine, almost imperceptable fuzz at the corner of her lipsthe kissit’s a wet oneand right now, you’ll tell herwhatever she wants to hear

Thursday, March 08, 2007

He just goes to me, “You’re going to misunderstand what’s about to happen to you, and for that, I am profoundly sorry.” and sticks the knife in, and that’s it, game over. Except that it wasn’t over at all.

So, what happened see, I'm on my way home from Food Emporium, when I see this homeless guy I kind of know. Well, I don’t really know him, but whenever I see him and his dog, (he has a dog) I usually give him a couple of bucks or buy him some food or something. This time, I was broke, and I’d just used the last of my foodstamps for the month, which sucked big time, because it was only the seventh. So, I see him sitting out front and it’s freezing outside, I mean like in the teens and windy, and he’s sort of huddling behind his cart inside 3 or 4 coats and when he sees me, he says hi because I usually give him some money or buy him some food. So I notice his dog isn’t with him, but there’s this other homeless guy, maybe 60 or 70, (it’s hard to tell) talking to him, and he’s really skinny and he's wearing this old looking army jacket but he looks kind of peaceful and stuff, so I ask my friend, well, he’s not really my friend, but you know what I mean, where his dog is, and he tells me he’s been leaving his dog with a friend because its been so cold and this way he can go into the subway at night or go to the shelter and stuff.. so, I’m standing there, talking to him and I feel a little guilty, you know, standing there holding groceries, on my way home, so I tell him I don’t have any money this time, but I just got him some cheese and a bottle of water, and I take a package of string cheese and a bottle of water and give it to him, and tell him I just used the last of my food stamps, maybe so he realizes it’s kind of a sacrifice for me or something.. then the other guy smiles at me, and I smile back, thinking he must see that I’m a good person or something, not like all the rich snobs that live around here, and I say to the two of them have a good night and stay warm.. so I’m on my way home now, and I turn onto my block and suddenly he’s right there in front of me, and I have no idea how he got there, because I just left him in front of Food Emporium, and he’s got a knife, so the thought “how the hell did he get in front of me so fast?” is replaced by “who's this asshole in front of me with a knife?” and he just goes to me “ You’re going to misunderstand what’s about to happen to you, and for that, I am profoundly sorry.” and that's it.. it's like a flash, no pain even, and I’m here, in this stupid waiting room, and some guy's tellin' me I'm about to be drafted into Heaven's army or something, because there’s some kind of angelic war going on..

Seeds In The Vacuum

Inbar Frishman, is an American/Israeli, punk rock whore, a queer, trans dyke, and poet/spoken word artist.
Informed by the likes of Gary Snyder, T'ao Ch'ien and Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha, Ms. Frishman's poems refuse to hang the reader up with ego driven, adjective weighted lines, and instead, draw them into intimate moments of transformation, where words themselves become secondary, and one is left haunted by the feeling that the experience on the page had been ones' own all along.
Her past writings have appeared in multiple editions of Metromorphosis and Public Illumination Magazine, as well as on velvetparkmedia.com.
Inbar's first book of poetry, "Things Missed in Exile", is available either through Nirala Publishing, or from the author at readings or by request. A limited number of signed copies are currently available through St. Mark's Books, in New York.
Inbar performs her spoken word throughout New York, and can be booked for special engagements.